


Endless Love

by jumpinglamps



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Deep Throating, Eating out, M/M, Overstimulation, PWP, Temperature Play, Trans!Yuri, Vampire!Yuri, Yuri K spelled with 1 u, because I’m weenie, fancy dildo, its not gratuitous blood tho, trans!yuuri, vampire!Victor, via some cold vampire fingers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-25 00:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21347515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpinglamps/pseuds/jumpinglamps
Summary: Victor and Yuri share an intimate, lazy afternoon together. No plot, just horny vampires.Do not repost my content anywhere, including unofficial 3rd party apps.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 4
Kudos: 78





	Endless Love

**Author's Note:**

> If you’re curious how vampire lore works in my various vampire AUs...  
-Body temperature is controlled by how well fed a vampire is—warm=full, cold=hungry  
-vampires can digest human food, but it doesn’t do much for them other than add taste to their food  
-vampire saliva can heal wounds  
-vampire bites work like a mild Vulcan mind meld  
-any other questions just ask! I’m always down to talk about vampires lol
> 
> *non-beta’d  
*if you feel like a tag is missing, let me know!

Victor’s fingers are cold when he’s hungry. Cold when they dance playfully across his stomach, cold when they cradle his face like a fragile thing, cold when they dig into his ass, when they dust across the ghosts of bite marks on his neck, when they press gently under his chin to lift his lips to kissing height.

They’re cold today, worming under Yuri’s shirt as they relax in bed late into the afternoon. Victor’s cold fingers leave him breathless, giggling into kisses. Yuri is extra full and lazy, having drunk enough for the both of them the night prior so Victor can feed off of him today. He’s been craving it, they both have: the intimacy of a real _bite_. The bliss of biting and being bitten, of being connected in such a complete way.

But Victor also has a new toy he’s been itching to try out. Yuri knows this because he saw the way Victor’s eyes lit up when that package was delivered a few days ago, the way he bounced on his feet with a little giddy wink singing “it’s a surprise~” when Yuri asked what was in the box. He knew Victor was likely saving it for the night he fed, because Victor likes to make those nights extra special, likes a little extra fanfare when they feed from each other. And Yuri always ends up loving Victor’s version of “fanfare” too.

Victor buries his nose into the soft warm skin of Yuri’s neck and moans, a deep, guttural thing, almost like a purr. He licks a long, cold stripe from collarbone to ear, and Yuri’s breath catches, back arching up to try and twist himself closer to Victor.

“Smells so _good_.” Victor breathes into Yuri’s ear, sending shivers rattling down through his fingertips. He’s murmuring Yuri’s name, breathing deep, licking and sucking red bruises into Yuri’s skin, teasing out little gasps from Yuri’s lips. Yuri strokes over Victor’s soft hair, clutches at his ass and pulls, trying to encourage him to rut against his side. Victor takes the bait and climbs over him, straddling Yuri’s hips and pressing down flat over him, humping just below the softness of Yuri’s stomach. Yuri takes handfuls of Victor’s plush ass, pulling and squeezing, loving the little helpless moans Victor presses into his shoulders.

The head of Victor’s cock peeks out over the top of his underwear, dragging warm over Yuri’s skin, all the blood left in Victor’s body pooling into pleasure. Victor always looks beautiful, but he’s so heart wrenchingly lovely like this, open mouthed and desperate, clinging to the warmth of Yuri’s body, seeking out that single-minded pleasure, lips constantly pressed into the skin he _needs_ to bite into, waiting, waiting for Yuri to give him permission.

“Vitya,” Yuri tries for a soft tone, but he cracks a little, as turned on as he is. “Didn’t you have—_mm_—a surprise for me?”

Victor pulls away with red kiss swollen lips, eyes blown out and glazed over. He kisses Yuri once, long, deep, tongue plunging into Yuri’s mouth like he can’t help himself.

Then he pulls away, leaving Yuri to catch his breath in a cocoon of messy, kicked aside blankets and sheets. Victor reappears quickly from the closet and is climbing wordlessly over Yuri again like a man possessed, this time sans underwear. Whatever he’s holding is pressed down onto the bed before Yuri can get a good look at it as Victor loses himself momentarily to the feeling of skin on skin, humping Yuri’s stomach again, leaving little wet stripes of pre for his balls to drag through. But Yuri’s still wearing a shirt and boxers (albeit barely wearing them, pushed out of the way with Victor’s earlier exploring). Victor makes quick work of them, murmuring soft words between the wet kisses he works into Yuri’s skin. Some words Yuri understands (_good_, _beautiful_, _love you_,_ so good_) though the phrases in Russian, Yuri can’t parse. It all sinks into him the same: warm tingly and lovely at the tips of his fingers and toes.

Before Yuri even realizes he’s naked, Victor’s head is between his legs, kissing and licking, coaxing his cock gently out from its hood with fervent moans. He pulls it between his lips, burying himself deep into Yuri’s skin, hands digging bruises into Yuri’s hips, and Yuri yells at the barrage of feeling zinging through him, curling his toes. Cold fingers drag through his slick before pressing into his ass, plunging deep all at once. Yuri twists his fingers into Victor’s hair, gripping him like a lifeline, pulling probably too hard, but Victor just moans louder around his cock, sucks harder, fingers digging in deeper, wringing an organism out of Yuri’s rattling body faster than he ever has before. But he doesn’t stop. He keeps sucking, head bobbing the slightest bit in Yuri’s grasp, fingers still fucking into his ass fast, curling on every other stroke out, and Yuri is lost, lost to the hot pleasure that seizes his entire body. He’s a live wire, heat welling impossibly inside him even as Victor’s icy fingers plunge deeper into him. He shakes, a neverending convulsion, like his body can’t decide if it wants to pull Victor in deeper or pull away from him and escape the cold.

It’s starting to hurt but Yuri still doesn’t tell Victor to stop, and Victor shows no sign of wanting to, as if he could survive on Yuri’s pleasure instead of the blood in his stomach, now in his veins, as if he could merge their souls into one if only he sucked a little harder, if only he could reach a little bit deeper. Yuri is being eaten alive, happily, willingly. Then Victor _pulls_ Yuri’s cock with his lips and it’s truly too much—Yuri taps on the back of Victor’s head three times. His icy fingers leave Yuri’s ass at once, but he gives Yuri’s cock one last long lick, tongue flat and open, tearing a broken scream from Yuri’s lungs.

He pulls himself back up Yuri’s body, slowly, letting his wet lips touch every piece of him. His chin is drenched in Yuri’s come, and the site makes something throb deep inside him.

“Too much?” Victor asks, finally level with Yuri’s gaze again.

“S’ good,” Yuri murmurs, feeling a bit croaky. “Just need a little, a little break.”

“Mm,” Victor leans down to lick at Yuri’s neck. “I’m so _hungry_, Yuri,” he moans.

A breathless “Yeah” is all Yuri can manage, hands smoothing over Victor’s back in a motion he hopes is soothing.

Victor sits up over him once more, shifting his cock—swollen cherry red, heavy, a line of concentrated heat to contrast the cool ice of the rest of his body—so that it rests comfortably on the soft warmth of Yuri’s stomach. Yuri wants to touch it, kiss it, swallow it whole—it looks so deliciously warm, like it would fill his mouth perfectly. But Yuri refrains. Partly because his arms are still too shaky to move, but also because Victor looks so _good_ like that. Straddling him, needy, blissed out, as if he could come with a single touch. 

Yuri’s almost forgotten the toy by the time Victor retrieves it from where it was tossed aside on the bed. It’s extravagant, beautiful; it’s very “Victor”. The base is a soft matte black, indented with fine, beveled rings of gold. It tapers to a slightly curved head, which is almost entirely gold but for a single black swirl. At the opposite end is a large lilac crystal, big enough to fit in the palm of a hand. Yuri wonders what those little ridges would feel like dragging inside him, what Victor would look like fucking himself with it, that pretty crystal all that’s visible, poking out of his ass.

“_Yu_ri,” Victor whispers, bringing the toy up to his own lips. Yuri holds his breath as he watches Victor taste it with broad strokes of his tongue. Yuri’s mouth waters; he wants to suck Victor’s cock so _badly_. Instead he watches as Victor opens wide and take the dildo in, first just the gold head, sucked between his lips. Slowly, moving it in and out, he takes it deeper, Yuri tries counting the number of gold rings Victor takes but he’s too distracted by the way Victor moans, the same noises he was making just moments ago, buried in Yuri’s skin, but now muffled around the pretty toy.

He keeps taking it deeper, until his eyes water and Yuri’s sure it’s hitting the back of his throat. He can’t help himself then; he reaches up and takes the crystal base, warm hand closing gently over Victor’s cold one. With careful, slow movements, he starts fucking Victor’s mouth with the dildo, watches in awe as Victor goes cross-eyed, makes low, desperate sounds that rumble in his chest. Victor’s hips rock, a thoughtless, uneven motion, dragging that hot cock across Yuri’s stomach.

With his free hand, Yuri encourages Victor to scoot forward, pulling at his hip. Victor obeys, scooting up until he’s practically sitting on Yuri’s chest, the head of his cock close enough that Yuri can _finally_ lean forward and touch his lips to the tip.

Victor moans wanton around the dildo, hips stuttering forward sloppily so his cock slides hot across Yuri’s cheek. Yuri squeezes Victor’s hand and lets go of the crystal in favor of grabbing Victor’s hips, so he can at the very least get Victor’s cock in his mouth before he starts trying to fuck forward again.

He gets the warm head between his lips before Victor rocks forward once more—too fast. Yuri grabs Victor more firmly by his quivering hips and pushes him back so that it’s just the head in his mouth again, then slowly, slowly lets him slide back in. He still reaches the back of Yuri’s throat a bit quicker than Yuri would like, but he can tell Victor’s trying to slow himself down now. Their eyes lock over the dildo, both of them a little watery, half lidded.

After a couple more slow strokes in and out of Yuri’s mouth, Yuri releases some of the pressure on Victor’s hips, lets him move more on his own. Instead he takes handfuls of Victor’s ass again, feeling it flex under his fingers. Yuri feels full, warm, Victor’s cock filling his mouth exactly as he knew it would. He’s so encased by that smell that is intrinsically _Victor_, by those little muffled moans, hinging on whines, like he’s trying to say something but refuses to take the dildo out to say it. 

Yuri can kind of tell from his peripheries that Victor’s trying to matching the speed of his hips with the speed at which he’s fucking his own mouth with the dildo, but it’s sloppy; he’s too far gone to keep track of all that. With hands firm on Victor’s ass, Yuri pulls Victor deeper on a thrust in—he’s wants Victor to lose control completely, to _let go_. And Victor takes the hint, starts snapping his hips so Yuri’s forced to take him to the root. Tears prickle Yuri’s eyes, he has to concentrate hard to breathe at the right moments through his nose, but it’s wonderful, feeling Victor’s blood pulsing on his tongue through the skin of his cock, feeling that warmth dip down his throat like a tease. He’s far from hungry, but blood from Victor’s body always tastes so amazing—Yuri wants to bite his cock, let it trickle down his throat, let the taste of him explode on his tongue. They’ve experimented with that before, and it’s utter bliss: Victor always comes so hard, gets so loud when Yuri bites him there. But that would be mean; Victor’s hungry enough as it is, and taking the last bit of his blood like that would make him ravenous. He’ll settle for Victor’s come.

It’s usually easy to tell when Victor’s coming by the pitch of his voice, but Victor’s kinda been _there_ since he started sucking Yuri’s cock. So it’s mostly a surprise when Victor thrusts hard into the heat of Yuri’s mouth, stuttering on one long dildo-muffled whine. He comes hot down Yuri’s throat, cock twitching, hips trying to grind forward even further, and Yuri grabs hard at his ass, keeping him in place. He doesn’t let go until Victor’s whines start to sound more pitiful, likely from overstimulation.

Victor’s soft when he slips out, slowly enough that Yuri can kiss it sweetly once more before Victor scoots back out of reach. He backs up further, further, all the way off of Yuri and onto the bed. He seems very far away back there, and Yuri’s already getting squirmy again, heat blooming in gut, making him needy.

“Vitya,” he whines, embarrassment but a hazy memory as he reaches blindly forward for Victor. Victor finally takes the dildo out of his mouth with a wet sigh. It’s shiny with Victor’s drool, catching a bit of light off the nearby lamp, almost making it look glittery.

“Wanna fuck you with it, can I?” Victor asks with a little pleading look, rubbing one hand up and down the expanse of Yuri’s thigh.

“Kinda feels like you just did.” Yuri giggles, but at Victor’s little frown, he acquiesces. He knew this was Victor’s plan all along anyway, and the throbbing between his legs has him just about ready to beg Victor to do _something_.

Victor repositions them, sitting himself up on a pile of pillows at the headboard and pulling Yuri onto his lap, Yuri’s back to Victor’s front. He thumbs at Yuri’s cock, ice twinging Yuri’s budding heat, just to feel Yuri squirm.

“N-No fair,” Yuri whines, reaching back to grab whatever piece of Victor he can get his hands on.

“You want it?” Victor drags the spit slick shiny dildo through the cum and slick still clinging to Yuri’s groin, and Yuri twitches when the little ridges bump against his cock. A cool tongue presses flat against Yuri’s neck, breath puffing out over his skin. There’s that little rumble in Victor’s chest, pressed directly into Yuri’s back this time, that little purr of _want_, of _hunger_. “Lift your legs up?”

Yuri scrambles to grab his thighs and hoist them up and apart, propped on his forearms. Victor presses deep kisses into his neck, over already healing red marks, and rubs the head of the dildo over Yuri’s cock, if only to hear Yuri breathlessly beg “_please_.”

And finally, finally the golden head presses at the seam of Yuri’s ass, slowly, steadily presses in. Yuri can feel every intricate indent of the silicon design as it makes its way inside him, rubs against his skin. Yuri’s already starting to shake apart, Victor’s insistent pace inward shooting constant sparks up his spine. Until at last Victor’s knuckles, gripped around the lilac crystal base meet Yuri’s backside. It’s all the way in and Yuri feels so full. The curve of the dildo presses just where he’s most sensitive, and Victor’s cool opposite thumb on his cock keep his nerves on that sparkly edge.

It takes all his concentration to keep his legs held up and out of the way, with Victor’s hands trying to take him apart, with his lips teasing blood to the surface of his skin on his neck, with his breath heavy, voice whispering low murmurs of encouragement, of pleading, of pure desire. Victor starts moving the toy faster, plunging it in and out of Yuri’s ass and Yuri moans, wet and open, tips his head back to lay on Victor’s shoulder. It’s molten heat shooting through his veins, dripping down his spine. It’s Victor encasing him like a loving, beautiful cocoon. He can feel Victor’s eyes on his face, watching what every new angle, every hard trust of the toy in does to him. Victor’s icy fingers on his cock press, rub, _pinch_ and Yuri can’t stop making noise, a steady stream of one, long, wanton groan.

Yuri’s sure he’s coming, this all-consuming, bone-deep electricity making his legs shake can’t be anything else, but Victor doesn’t stop fucking him, keeps pumping that fancy dildo in and out of him. Then he feels the brief, sharp pain of Victor’s teeth entering his neck, followed quickly by white-hot blinding pleasure. Victor is everywhere, inside him, around him, like an extension of his body. The pleasure of the toy fucking him through this never-ending orgasm, of the fingers rubbing deep into his very bones, of the warm haze emanating from the hot side of his neck where Victor’s teeth have taken root in him. He’s broken and held together all in Victor’s hungry hands.

As if from a distance, he can hear Victor’s voice, sated and muffled. He can feel Victor’s emotions through the connection, the ghost of post orgasmic bliss mingled with his own pulsing pleasure, the eager satisfaction of the warm blood on Victor’s tongue, and that soft blanket of love that covers everything.

Victor lets Yuri start coming down from his orgasm before pulling away from his neck, pulling the toy out and replacing it with his own warming fingers: a balm to the incessant, oversensitive throb inside him, the need to have something _in_ him when fucking would be too much. His other hand cradles Yuri’s middle, takes enough pressure off for Yuri to lower his legs back to the bed.

Yuri’s barely coherent when Victor pulls out of his neck, licking the new wounds closed.

He wakes up in the dark, wrapped in a thick burrito of blankets. Victor’s sitting up against the headboard next to him, reading some book on his phone in his left hand, right hand occupied lazily in Makkachin’s fur. He looks down when Yuri stirs with a gentle smile, putting his phone aside.

“How are you feeling?” Victor asks, passing him a mug of warm green tea-steeped blood.

Yuri hums, not ready to form actual words just yet. He feels wonderful, lazy, his body loose and sore, like after a good yoga session, but even better. He wiggles out of his blanket burrito just enough to sit up and take the mug. He leans into Victor’s side, content and soft. Victor’s lips press to his forehead and linger there, just for the pleasure of the contact.

Later, they will take Makkachin for a walk, and they’ll go shopping at Victor’s favorite store (they’ve just put out their winter line, and Victor’s dying to get his hands on their new sweaters). But for now, they lay warm together in their too-large bed, in their small, high-rise apartment, in their endless love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
